


Among Other Foolish Things

by steelcrash



Series: Cayde-6 Remix, or 50 Shades of Cayde [2]
Category: Destiny (Video Games), Firefly, Serenity (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Twins, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Brothers, Cayde-6 Being Cayde-6 (Destiny), Conspiracy, Crossover, Dubious Science, Evil Corporations, F/M, Families of Choice, Family Secrets, Fix-It, Gen, Hunter angst, M/M, Memory Loss, Murder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Space Magic, Telepathic Bond, cayde - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 06:19:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17482751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelcrash/pseuds/steelcrash
Summary: Guardians aren't supposed to digging for their past. But what if they wake up with a reminder? A new Risen will learn why Guardians are warned against looking into their past life. It's not just about finding they might not like who they were, but finding out about what they've lost.





	1. Risen

Among Other Foolish Things 

Disclaimer: I don’t own “Destiny” or “Firefly”/“Serenity.” They belong to, respectively, Bungie, Joss Whedon and 20th Century Fox. I’m just taking them for a short spin. 

“Now the time it has come to pull yourself out of the mud  
And fix yourself up   
Hell don't you care how you look?  
Your mother god rest her she'd spin in her grave if she know what a mess you have made”  
from “Boy, Decide” by Murder By Death

Lightning split the sky and thunder rumbled across the plain as the small metal construct ignored the sound and the torrent of rain coming down as it flitted across the landscape. And suddenly stopped, turned around slowly, a beam of light emitting from the eye-like structure at the center of the construct. The eight points making up its shell separated from the body, rotating, and a burst of light shot out, hitting its intended target. 

The little construct’s points snapped back into place and watched as the human it had found sat up, gasping for breath and pushing himself up out of the mud. 

And he slipped and fell as the little robot spoke. 

“I’m your Ghost,” she said. “I’ve been looking for you for a very long time.”

The Ghost continued watching as the human scrambled again, this time finding his footing, gaping at his companion. He righted the backpack on his back and pulled the makeshift hood of his cloak over his head. The human wasn’t panicking. Yet. A good sign. 

88888  
She didn’t tell him how long they’d been walking, but night had fallen, and the stars were peeking out as the storm broke and clouds moved off. Her Guardian hadn’t complained, either. He hadn’t said anything yet, come to think of it. Until he plopped himself onto the ground, pushing his hood back, glaring at her with the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. 

“Just where the hell are we going, and what the hell is going on?” he asked. “I’m wet, and hungry, and more than a little confused. And just what are you anyway?”

“Weren’t you listening before?” the Ghost said. “I’m your Ghost. You’re my Guardian. You’ve been dead a long time, and I found you and resurrected you. We’re south of Old Chicago. And unless we find a ship, we’re going to have a very long walk to the last safe city on Earth.”

“Well, little light, if you haven’t noticed, there’s nothing for miles,” he said. 

“Actually, there’s a crashed Fallen skiff 2.7 kilometers west of here,” she said. “We can shelter there for the rest of the night and scavenge for anything useful at first light.”

First light came after a cold, fitful sleep. The man slipped outside when it was full light, taking a look around. Miles of overgrown fields broken up by the occasional tree or line of trees. No sign of any human habitation he could see. 

He picked up the backpack he’d been using as a pillow and flipped up the rucksack’s flap. A rusted folding knife, a few now useless writing utensils, a sealed plastic bag with several journals and two ID badges. Both had a photo of a man with brown hair and blue eyes. He went and found a puddle and looked at the reflection—the man in the photos was him. 

The name on the badges was Malcolm Reynolds, though one had Malcolm “Mal” Reynolds. Mal. He liked the sound of it. And he was going to crack the cover on one of the journals when the Ghost came back. 

“I found you a few serviceable weapons, if you don’t mind Fallen tech until I can find better,” she said. 

She saw the ID in his hand. “What should I call you?”

“Mal,” he said. “What about you?”

“I don’t have a name,” she said. 

“What do other Guardians call their Ghosts?” Mal asked. “I’m assuming there are other Guardians?”

“They call them Ghost or name them,” she said.

“I think I’ll call you Rain,” he said. 

88888

They spent a second night in the Fallen skiff, and Rain was determined they were leaving the next day. So she prodded Mal awake at dawn, watching him stuff one of the Fallen banners into his bag and rolled two of the smaller ones into a bed roll and tied them to his bag. He also had a drag pistol and a knife at his belt. 

And more than a few questions in his head as he walked. But he didn’t know where to start. So he started with the most basic he could consider. 

“What’s a Guardian?” he asked. 

Rain bobbed in excitement. “Guardians are the chosen of the Traveler, raised from the dead to protect humanity and the last safe city on Earth,” she said. 

“I’m your Ghost and you’re my Guardian and you’re a Hunter,” she said. 

The mention of the Traveler sounded familiar, but the rest, not so much. 

“What’s a Hunter?” he said. 

“Scouts. Rangers. Whatever you want to call them,” Rain said. “We’ll have to figure out which energy you have an affinity for, thought.”

“Huh?”

“Your Light,” she explained. “It’s either solar, arc or void. So you’ll start out as a Gunslinger, Blade dancer or Nightstalker.”

“Again what?” Mal said, confused. 

“You have gifts bestowed by the Traveler,” Rain said. “You’ll see.”

“And what’s your part in all this?” Mal asked. 

“Friend, companion. Oh, and when you die, I can resurrect you,” the Ghost said. “C’mon. Get walking. Each day on the road is one day closer to the City.”


	2. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mal learns more about himself and his past.

To pass the time, Rain talked about the City, its history, and how Guardians were the city’s protectors. Mal listened. Mostly. He was getting bored and restless after a couple of weeks of walking and getting nowhere. They’d passed through several towns, all empty of any human life. The places were all overgrown and receding back to nature. He’d also found nothing useful. Not a vehicle, and certainly not a ship. There were no facilities nearby or on their projected path which had a chance of having a ship. The area he was in was also mostly unexplored in its present state, known only to the City in the maps available pre-collapse.

  
The Collapse. Another subject Rain had touched on, but not much. She said it didn’t matter so much as what came after. Like Ghosts, and the first Risen, who later became the Iron Lords, who were the first Guardians. Hell, a man could go crazy trying to sort through it all. He had enough time to think about it, and thinking, in this case, was bad. Made him wonder how long he’d been dead. He hadn’t asked what year it was, and he hadn’t yet cracked the cover on one of the journals in his bag. Maybe he didn’t want to know.

  
The only number he really wanted to deal with was how many miles he was away from the City, and it was too many. Mal was starting to get annoyed with the situation. Frustrated Rain’s suggestions weren’t workable, and they couldn’t agree on a plan of action. So one morning he started walking back toward Old Chicago. The Ghost told him it was abandoned, which didn’t mean maybe he could find something useful. Or possibly a way to communicate with the city Rain wouldn’t shut up about. A city which was far off. He wasn’t walking all that way unless it was his last resort—his absolute last resort.

  
88888  
A month back among the living, and they’d managed to make it to Old Chicago without any trouble. The weather was getting warmer, the days longer, and with the warm season, thunderstorms. He did die by lightning strike one evening on top a building tinkering with an antenna with Rain’s help. Come to find out dying by lightning hurt like a bitch and left an intricate pattern of marks on his skin. Rain said he was kissed by the sky itself, and she’d left the marks on him when she brought him back. He had to admit the marks were beautiful. Didn’t hurt either, and they faded after a few days.

  
Not they only way he’d died, either. Lightning twice. Bears. Falls. Lots of them, and he wasn’t counting. Fallen when he stumbled on a nest of them while exploring.   
The Fallen had weapons, ammo, likely other supplies. Mal was contemplating storming their lair and taking what he could, but Rain nixed that nascent plan. Which wasn’t a plan at all, once she explained what he was up against. They didn’t look to have a Kell or Archon, but Fallen in numbers would be a problem for an inexperienced Guardian.

  
But he did it anyway. And died and died until Rain convinced him not to try again. Then he tried something even more stupid—trying to talk with them. Except they didn’t speak English, and Rain knew only a few words in Eliksni, but not enough, so he gave up.

  
The upside was the crazy got the Fallen to leave them alone, but Mal was still tempted to try and talk with them. He considered having only the Ghost for company was making him a little crazy. Well, there wasn’t anything normal about his situation, anyway. Brought back from the dead long after he’d died, and the memory of clawing himself up out of the mud was the stuff of his nightmares. He’d woke screaming a few times, with Rain trying her best to comfort him.

  
Rain. She was something else. He figured if it wasn’t for her, he probably would’ve gone crazy already. She annoyed him, and Mal knew he annoyed her back. But it was tempered by the knowledge she was always with him, and would be until they died their final deaths. Mal hoped that was far in the future.

  
Although another matter of contention between Ghost and Guardian were the journals in his bag. Mal ignored them as long as he could. Rain even cautioned him against reading them at all. Guardians weren’t supposed to go looking into their pasts. First, it was a distraction which could and would keep them from doing what was really important—protecting Earth and the City. Second, maybe finding out what kind of person they were before wasn’t such a good idea.

  
Thing was though, his past came with him, sitting in the journals just a couple of feet away. Mal reached over into the pack, picked one of the journals at random, opened the cover and started reading:

_I can’t say I aced my pilot training with flying colors, but my marks were high enough this time I actually passed. Flying isn’t my favorite thing—being in the pilot seat, that is. It’s the thought of having my own ship, the freedom that will come with it. Gotta say I’m happy I’m one step closer to being in command of my own destiny._

_88888_

_I get an a honorable discharge today and Cayde is in lockup somewhere over some stupid gambling misunderstanding. Which makes no sense. “Gambling misunderstanding?” Most likely he can’t pay back someone he lost to. No big surprise there._   
_If he thinks I’m gonna bail him out, he’s crazier than I am. So not gonna do it. I know I’m sitting on decent amount of cash, but it’s for my future, my ship. Our future, if Cayde would get his head out of his ass._   
_He’s my own brother, my twin, and I love him, but I’ve had my share of trouble and I’m done with all that now. I just wish Cayde would find something, someone, anything to keep him off this path he’s on. I only know enough to know that’s not me anymore._

_88888_   
_Zoe says I’m too easy. That I’ll take any job. Not true. I do like a challenge, and it’s not like we’re in a position to be picky._   
_What happened wasn’t my fault, and you can’t change the past. She still thinks we can do better. Maybe she’s right._

_88888_   
_Zoe was right. As usual. This is not an uncommon thing._

_88888_   
_Cayde says I should marry Zoe, because Traveler knows I’m never gonna do any better. He’s probably right. But I don’t see Zo that way, and she knows too much about me, and doesn’t want me that way anymore than I want her that way._   
_Don’t mean I love her any less._

_88888_   
_Zo thinks I’m out of my mind. I don’t think she’s ever been more wrong. It was love at first sight._   
_I bought a ship today. Freighter. Not the biggest or the fastest, but she’s mine, free and clear. I plan on calling her Serenity._

_88888_   
_Zoe may be right. Possible this damn ship is a deathtrap._   
_88888_

_Damn ship is finally space worth. Broke atmo for the first time shipping personnel and supplies to the First Light Lunar Installation._   
_The contractor they had hired wasn’t able to make the run because of a blown engine. We got them back on schedule, though I may have to shoot the pilot I just hired._

_88888_   
_Cayde’s always been reckless. Sometimes calculated, most often not. Except this time. . ._   
_He’s gone and got himself married. Has a baby on the way. He’s so damn excited it’s contagious._   
_The wedding was short but nice. After, all I remember is Tequila. Something about Cayde and a damn dare. (I do remember I was the best man for the ceremony. Zo was the maid of honor ‘cause Chandra’s sister couldn’t make it for the wedding on such short notice. Apparently I remember more than I thought.)_   
_Chandra’s four months pregnant, and I guess it’s true what they say about a woman when she’s expecting—she was glowing, but not just ‘cause she’s pregnant. She’s so damn in love with Cayde it hurts. He feels the same about her, thank the Traveler he’s found something good._   
_Still got a few months before the kid is born, though. They don’t know what they’re having, even though it’s common these days to find out, even decide what you’re having before you have it._   
_Of course not Cayde. My reckless brother._

_88888_   
_I’m an uncle! Cayde’s over the moon. He was actually home on leave when Chandra went into labor, so he was there for the birth of his son._   
_He sent me a capture of the kid—he’s all squished and red and looked more than a little pissed. Cayde says he’s the most handsome kid he’s ever seen. Whatever._   
_I guess he’s cute. Don’t even have a name yet._

_88888_   
_Cayde named the kid Ace. I don’t know if he’s joking or not. At least he’s happy, and he’s turned a corner in the past six months. No gambling, hasn’t gotten into trouble. I hope it lasts._   
_But Ace? REALLY?_

_88888_   
_My name is Mal Reynolds. My birthday is September 20. I’m a Guardian. At least that’s what my Ghost tells me. Her name is Rain, and she’s been my constant (and only) companion since I dug myself out of my own grave six weeks ago. I've just read some of the old journal entries written by me, back when I was alive the first time. Thought I'd take up the practice again, if anything, just to keep track of this crazy new existence I've been given._   
_We’re supposed to be on our way to the City. “City” with a capital “c.” the last safe city on Earth. But I’ve kept us in and around Old Chicago since I woke._   
_I thought there’d be something or someone here, but all we’ve found so far is an abandoned city full of the remains of the dead and a bunch of aliens who won’t stop shooting at me each time they see me. Rain called them the Fallen, said their name for themselves is the Eliksni. They have four arms, two legs and four eyes. They survive on something called ether._   
_And I don’t know how many times I’ve been sniped when I go try and talk to them._   
_Rain said it’s futile to try. But I just want to talk, if it’s possible. Some Guardians have had a little luck talking to them, but it usually ends in shooting. Why does everything a Guardian does begin and end with a gun?_   
_I think these Eliksni have to understand some human languages. I’ll try English first, and if that doesn’t work, I’ll try Mandarin, then Japanese and Russian._   
_Might as well see how it goes._   
_—_   
_Attempt did not go well. Got sniped in the head._

_88888_   
_Rain won’t speak with me. She’s angry because we’re still *here* and not on our way to the City._   
_I’m supposed to walk that far? Apparently, the answer is yes, because the current Vanguard Commander, a Titan named Zavala, walked all the way to the City before it was a city. He’s legendary for his journey, and the story is still told each Dawning (whatever that is)._   
_Rain said if he can make the journey, so can I. But I don’t want to be one of those Guardians who never makes it to the City. Rain said many do die. Yes, Guardians can die a final death by losing their Ghost. Lose your Ghost, lose your Light._   
_I don’t know what to do._

_88888_   
_I had a fight with Rain tonight. I yelled at her and she left, and I’m not sure if she’ll come back._   
_It was the usual—we need to leave for the city. I told her not yet, and it degraded from there._   
_She told me she knows why I don’t want to leave—this was home in the past, and she’s scanned my journals. She said I should burn them, I’m holding on to something I should just let go. Forget._   
_Funny, I have forgotten and I don’t remember the things written in those journals. Without them and the ID badges, I wouldn’t know anything about me, or the me before me, let alone my own damn name._   
_Maybe I should burn them but I can’t. I won’t._

_88888_   
_Rain did come back, three days later. I asked her if she thinks she chose wrong, and she said no. She believes she picked the right Guardian, but she said my reluctance to leave is one of the reasons why Guardians aren’t supposed to go searching about their pasts. But how can I not when I woke up with evidence of it? I didn’t go looking for my past—it was with me all along, waiting for me to find it._

_88888_   
_We talked. Wasn’t an easy conversation. Found out just how long she was looking for me, how happy and relieved she was when she found me._   
_Laid out or expectations for one another, and I apologized._   
_And about leaving—I told her to give me a little more time. I have a feeling our luck is going to change._

_88888_   
_This is going to be a long one._   
_We found a dead Exo today while out scavenging. I dragged the frame from the rubble because I’d never seen one before in this life. Apparently never got too close to one in the last life either, but that is beside the point._   
_I just wanted a closer look. Assumed they were just a humanoid frame endowed with a sophisticated AI designed to mimic a real human._   
_Gods, I was so wrong. Rain explained Exos are humans whose consciousness was transferred from their human body to an Exo body._   
_It was a project of the Clovis Bray Corporation. (Big surprise there, but more about that later.)_   
_I got sick when Rain told me that about Exos. Who would come up with such a thing? And what kind of person would go through with it? Lots, apparently._   
_Rain said the City has a population of Exos who aren’t Guardians, and there are many Guardians who are Exo, including the Hunter Vanguard, an Exo named Cayde-6._   
_But back to the Exo we found—I gave him a decent burial, covered the grave with stones. Least I could do, didn’t want to leave him out like that, like he wasn’t human._   
_Exos are humans. HUMANS._   
_Rain thinks I’m grasping at straws and shouldn’t get my hopes up. But how can I not? Connect the dots and it’s a real possiblity._   
_In my journals, I wrote that Cayde, my brother Cayde, had a job offer from Clovis Bray. Never saw him again, but I knew he was alive. Maybe this Exo Hunter and my brother are one and the same. The thought he may be alive is enough to get me back on the road and I'll walk to the damn City if I have to. Rain thinks I shouldn't get my hopes up, but she's grateful we're finally back on our way._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Title is taken from "Among Other Foolish Things" by Brian Fallon.


End file.
